


The Magpie

by Aglarien



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 12:58:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aglarien/pseuds/Aglarien
Summary: The previously untold tale of how Erestor come to Imladris and made a couple very special friends.





	1. On the Way to Imladris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/gifts).



> Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings universe is the sole property of the Tolkien estate. This story is written for enjoyment only and no profit is made. Only the cat and magpie are mine.  
> Warnings: AU  
> Beta: Chaotic Binky
> 
> Author's Notes: Written for Alexcat for the Sultry in September fic exchange.  
> My dear Alexcat, this didn’t quite come out as planned, or indeed, quite as you requested. The Elves had a plan of their own, and naming you Elf-friend, insisted on telling you a story that no one else had heard before. I hope it pleases.

“Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our natural lives.”   
― [ **C.S. Lewis**](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1069006.C_S_Lewis)

  


 

Chapter One

On the way to Imladris

A cold sharp wind had sprung up just as the small party of elves rode through the hamlet, albeit hamlet was too generous a word to describe such a dismal place.  There was a scattering of wattle and daub cottages, and what looked like a communal oven and forge.  A light rain began to fall, ghostly shadows of mist dancing in the wind.  Up ahead there was a small chapel of sorts, identifiable only by the grave markers standing in the churchyard.  A small, lone figure knelt beside what was clearly a newly filled grave, for the dirt was still mounded over the gravesite. 

“We should find a good place to shelter for the night, Elrond,” Glorfindel said, “before this weather turns worse.  It will be dark in a few hours anyway.  There does not appear to be any suitable place here.  I’d rather we ride on and put some distance between us and this dreary place.”

“Agreed,” Elrond answered.  “That poor child in the churchyard needs to be inside, out of this weather.”  Just as he spoke, one of the guards who followed behind the two Elf-lords rode quickly to the head of the column. 

“My lords,” the guard spoke, nodding his head in a quick gesture of respect, “I asked a man who came out from his cottage if there was a place for us to make camp for the night near here.  Instead of answering me, the man warned us to stay away from that child.”  Here the Elf motioned to the forlorn figure in the churchyard.  “He is alone and is being forced from the village.  How is it that men treat their children so?  And on such a day as this?”

Glorfindel and Elrond both pulled in their reins to stop, and Glorfindel raised a hand to halt the column.  “What is that you say, Talvion?  Why are they forcing him from the village?”

“I asked him, my lord,” the guard replied.  “There is sickness here, and the folk who were caring for the child have died.  The child wandered into this village a few months ago.  No one knows from whence he came, but no one will take him in because they are afraid he carries the sickness.”

Glorfindel looked at his lord.  “Elrond, we cannot….” 

“No, we cannot indeed.”  Elrond dismounted, followed by Glorfindel, both of them handing their reins to Talvion.  The leaves whispered, whipped by the winds, and the wooden grave markers swayed in a macabre dance.

“Look at him,” Glorfindel whispered under his breath, knowing Elrond could still hear him.  “So very young.  Six, perhaps seven years old?”

“If that,” Elrond said, his thoughts aligned with his friend’s.  “How can they be so heartless?”

They had reached the child.  Glorfindel sank down on one knee in the wet, dirt-strewn grass.  “Child?” he said softly in the language of men.  The boy did not look at the elves, but continued focusing on the grave.  Glorfindel reached out a hand and gently turned the child’s face toward his own.  Haunted grey eyes stared up at him.  “Why do you stay here?  Have you nowhere to go?  Is there no one who will care for you?”

A small hand reached out and touched a lock of Glorfindel’s golden hair that had fallen over his shoulder as he bent down before the child.  Suddenly the boy moved and Glorfindel found two thin arms wrapped around his bent leg, a small head covered in disheveled dark hair resting on his knee.  “Poor little one,” Glorfindel murmured, taking the child in his arms and finding his heart surprisingly filling with warmth.  The dark head settled on his shoulder.  He glanced at the row of cottages and saw a bowlegged man standing outside of a cottage - the man that Talvion had spoken to, apparently.  “Tolon,” he called to another of the guards in the Elven language, “ask that man there where this child lived.  He must have more than these thin clothes on his back, and I want his belongings.”

The child did not move his head from the golden pillow of Glorfindel’s hair, but Elrond saw the arm that was raised and the finger that pointed to a small, dark cottage just ahead of them.

“What?” Elrond murmured, walking closer to Glorfindel and speaking in their Elven language because the child had obviously understood Glorfindel’s words.  “He understood you.  The house is there.”  He motioned to the cottage.  Elrond tried to take the child from Glorfindel’s arms, but the boy whimpered and kept a fierce hold.  “Very well,” he said softly, “Glorfindel will continue to hold you. I just want to see…”  His fingers moved through the tousled and tangled locks, finding what he sought.  “Not a man-child”, he said in astonishment, “an Elfling!”

Before Glorfindel could respond, Tolon hurried over to them.  “The man says the cottage has been emptied, my lords.  These thieving villagers took everything left of any value already, leaving the poor little waif with only what he wears.”

“Then we leave now and put this dreadful place behind us.”  Glorfindel’s tone brooked no debate.

“And the child, my lord?” Tolon inquired.

“The Elfling comes with us, home to Imladris,” Elrond answered before Glorfindel could speak.  Elrond moved to his horse, removed a blanket from one of his saddlebags, and wrapped it around the child in his friend’s arms.  “It seems he prefers you. Let us away from here before this storm is completely upon us.  The Elfling needs food and warmth.  And we cannot continue to address him as ‘Elfling’.  What is your name, little one?” he asked, one hand gently caressing the Elfling’s head.

A very small voice, muffled in Glorfindel’s shoulder said, “Erestor.”

Word that the child was an Elfling spread like a flame down the column of elves.  When the Elf who kept their stores of food brought bread, cheese and fruit for the child to eat, Glorfindel was able to coax Erestor off of his shoulder to sit before him on the horse and eat.  The child was so small atop Asfaloth, so Glorfindel held an arm securely around him, and even Asfaloth seemed to know that he had to step carefully.  Glorfindel gave Erestor some water to drink, and then quietly told him to eat.  The Elfling began to fair bolt the bread down, so Glorfindel said, “Eat more slowly, Erestor.  No one will take the food from you.  All of it is for you.  If you eat slower, you will be able to finish it all.”

Erestor turned his head and raised his eyes to Glorfindel.  He said nothing, but clearly had listened because he stopped the hurried inhalation of his food, and slowly ate through the bread and cheese, followed by a pear and another drink from Glorfindel’s water flask.  Within minutes of finishing his food, the Elfling’s head drooped and he was rocked into a sound sleep by Asfaloth’s gentle gait.

The rain was left behind with the hamlet, and the elves found a suitable place next to a small stream a few miles further along the road.  They made camp and kindled their fires just as darkness enfolded them.  Dried meat and roots were set to cook in no time at all, and Elrond fashioned a garment for Erestor out of one of his spare tunics, which seemed the most expedient way to keep the Elfling warm.  The elves ate the stew, accompanied by chunks of bread and cheese they carried with them from Forlindon.  When Erestor lay asleep next to Glorfindel and Elrond, the two spoke quietly.

“He seems to be fixated on your golden hair,” Elrond said.

Glorfindel nodded.  “Do you suppose the couple who were caring for him in the village had golden hair?”

Elrond thought for a moment before answering.  “He’s Elven, so he is probably closer to twelve years – or more.  Older than we thought he was.  He’d only been in that village for a short while.  From what that man told Talvion, he wandered into the place.  I think it likely he was traveling with his family and somehow they were separated, or his family was killed and he survived.  Perhaps one day he can tell us what happened.  My guess is someone he loved had golden hair.  How he put his arms around your leg and rested his head on your knee, I warrant it was his father.”

“That would seem to be the most likely.  Poor child.”  Glorfindel sighed.  “I am already doomed, you know.  My heart warmed when I took him in my arms and he rested his head on my shoulder.  I already care about the little imp and don’t see my relinquishing him to anyone unless we somehow find his family, which I doubt will happen.  Am I evil to hope that we don’t?”

“You?  Evil?  Never.  My dear friend, there is no one on Arda more free of evil than you.  You have been my constant companion and advisor and I believe I am in the best position to assure you of that, even more so than Gildor.”

“You don’t mind that I want to care for the child?  Raise him even?  I know it will be difficult but I am…”

“…called by your heart to do it,” Elrond finished for him.  “I would expect no other decision from you, nor would Gildor.  I will help you all I can, and we will find someone good to help while you and Gildor and I carry out our duties.  Perhaps Lindir would like to help.  He would make a good teacher for the child for writing, music, and poetry.” 

“Gildor will teach him much, too,” Glorfindel mused.  “Do you think he will approve of the addition to our family?”

“You should have no doubt of that, Glorfindel.  I am quite sure my cousin will fall in love with the little one as swiftly as you did, and I would be unsurprised if the two of you do not adopt him.  The child is so sweet that he endears himself to your heart almost the moment you see him.  How the humans could have feared him, I will never understand.”

“Nor will I,” Glorfindel agreed, “but we will teach Erestor to find joy again and to be happy.”

“And don’t forget what you can teach him,” Elrond said.  “He will sense that you already love him.  He will feel safe in that love and you will teach him how to trust again.”

“And you will teach him to be kind and to think like you,” Glorfindel added with a smile.  “You’ll probably have him turned into your chief counselor by the time he reaches his majority.”

Elrond was hard pressed to stifle his laughter enough not to wake Erestor.  As if in agreement, the child stirred and wrapped his arms around Glorfindel’s leg. 

The days passed as they travelled home.  Erestor grew more comfortable with the Elves, especially Glorfindel and Elrond, though he almost never spoke.  He answered direct questions with nods or shakes of his head, clearly not yet trusting in his change of fortune. 

Elrond was finally able to coax the Elfling to ride with him part of the time, his kind and gentle soul finally breaking a hole in Erestor’s self-defensive wall.  It wasn’t long before Erestor held onto Elrond just as he did Glorfindel, and he often wound the Elf-lord’s dark hair around his fingers as if to stay attached to him.


	2. Home

The day finally arrived when they crossed the Ford of Bruinen and rode into Imladris, arriving just before the sun set below the mountain tops. 

“Welcome home,” Gildor called as he descended the stairway to the courtyard. “We have looked for your coming these past few days. I hope all was well with your mission.” He arrived at Elrond’s horse, greeting his kinsman when he dismounted. 

“We rode a bit slower coming home,” Elrond said, nodding toward Glorfindel, who was at that moment crossing the bridge into the courtyard, so Gildor could see that Asfaloth carried a second rider. “We have a new member of our house,” he added with a smile, “and a new member of our family, it would appear.”

“An Elfling! Orphaned, I presume? Is he kin to anyone we know? Leave it to Glorfindel.”

“Did you expect any different from your husband, Cousin? The child is just coming out of his ordeal and barely talks, so we know little. Glorfindel and I will tell you after the child is asleep for the night. Was everything as it should be? No problems here?”

“Nothing of great import to tell you about. That, too, can wait until after the child is settled,” Gildor replied. He turned to Glorfindel, who was lifting the Elfling from Asfaloth’s back. “Welcome home. And who is this little one?” he asked, gently placing a hand on the Elfling’s head and moving dark hair out of his eyes, while encircling his mate with his other arm for a quick embrace. 

“This is Erestor,” Glorfindel replied, “come to live here in Imladris with us.” Speaking to Erestor, he said, “This is Gildor. He is my husband and Elrond’s friend and kinsman. Will you not greet him?”

Erestor turned his head from where it nestled in Glorfindel’s neck to look at Gildor. A soft sigh left his lips as he saw Gildor’s golden hair. His hand reached out and touched a lock, and he allowed Glorfindel to place him in Gildor’s arms. 

“Oh my,” Gildor breathed. “Such a little treasure you are.” Erestor’s arms wrapped around his neck and his head rested on Gildor’s shoulder. “I believe I understand now, Glorfindel. You did well. We will let nothing further harm this one.”

Once the tired Elfling had been bathed and fed and clothed in a soft nightshirt, he fell asleep almost immediately in the small bed that had been brought into what was currently being used as a storage room in Gildor and Glorfindel’s chambers. 

Elrond joined Gildor and Glorfindel in their sitting room for the evening meal, and as they ate, Gildor heard Erestor’s story, such little as they knew.

“Perhaps we will learn more as he grows more comfortable with us,” Elrond said when they concluded the tale. “He is able to speak, and appears to have perfect understanding of what we say. When we thought he was a man-child, we guessed his age at six or seven, but he is probably closer to twelve or fifteen years old. He is alert and bright, and answers us in some way when we speak to him, even if it’s just a nod of his head. But tell us, Gildor, what has passed here in our absence? You said there was something?”

“It is the strangest thing,” Gildor said, sitting back in his chair and reaching for Glorfindel’s hand while he talked. “It was a little more than three weeks ago that food started disappearing from the kitchen larders at night. Not a lot, just a few pieces of fruit and a few biscuits, sometimes leftover cooked fish or fowl, or a loaf of bread with most of a jar of preserves. There is something missing every night. Not much, but just always enough for the head cook to notice.”

“How odd,” Glorfindel said. “It’s not as if we’d be angry if anyone took food. Anyone is welcome to eat if they need to, but they would surely say if they had taken anything.”

“And that is what is so odd,” Gildor said. “I have questioned everyone in the house from the servants to the scribes, the weavers to the counselors, and they all deny going to the kitchens after the kitchen staff have left for the night. I am trying to figure out how we might find out who is doing it, short of posting a guard. It’s almost as if the impossible is happening, but someone is taking the food, and it has to be more than an animal getting into it since the larders are behind closed doors.”

“There is only one way I can think of at the moment,” Elrond said. “Let us weave a web of threads around the kitchen doors and see if they are broken in the morning, and whether or not any food was taken.”

Leaving Glorfindel to stay with the sleeping Elfling, Elrond and Gildor visited the tailors, who were coaxed out of several spools of thread for their plan. After requesting new clothing to be made for the Elfling, they went off to the kitchen to see the head cook and put their plan into effect. 

In the morning, the cook reported the web had been undisturbed, but there was indeed food missing again.

Elrond and Gildor examined the unbroken web. “There are spots here where the thread is not tight. If someone were smaller than one of us, they probably could have moved the thread aside and slipped through without breaking it,” Elrond said. “We did a poor job on that spot.” 

“Then we will be more careful and make the web tighter tonight,” said Gildor.

~_____~

After breakfast, Glorfindel took Erestor by the hand and showed him all the places he needed to know how to find, most importantly how to get back to Glorfindel and Gildor’s rooms, where Erestor would now live. He showed the Elfling his office, as well as Elrond’s, the Library where the scribes worked, the kitchens where he could always go if he was hungry, and finally the healing rooms, where he was to run for help if he ever hurt himself or saw someone hurt. “And if ever you are lost, Erestor, or if ever you need anything, always remember you can ask anyone here for help. Anyone in this house will help you if you ask. Do you understand?”

Erestor nodded, and then smiled up at Glorfindel. 

“Good. Now we will find Lindir. Lindir is a great lore master. He will tell you many tales and teach you many songs and poems. He is also my friend, and Gildor’s and Elrond’s. He will be your friend too, if you let him. Will you let him be your friend and stay with him for a little while this morning?”

Erestor smiled up at Glorfindel, a hint of caution still in his eyes, but he at least was willing.

They found Lindir in the music rooms, where he warmly welcomed Erestor. “Come, Erestor,” he said, “come and sit with me at the little table there and I will tell you a tale of long ago. I think I might even have a book with some pictures in it for you to see. Afterwards, I will show you how to draw your own picture of the tale, and after that we will go to the kitchen for a treat. Would you like that?”

“I will be in my office while you are with Lindir,” Glorfindel said. “He will send for me when you are finished and I will come and fetch you from the kitchen, all right?”

As usual, Erestor smiled and nodded. Glorfindel set off to see about turning the store room into a real room for Erestor.

“I will tell you a tale that some believe is true, but I personally think it must have been changed a little through the years. You know how you tell someone something, and they tell someone else, but what they tell the other person isn’t quite the way you said it?”

Erestor nodded, seemingly already enraptured with Lindir’s voice.

“Well, I think this must be one of those kinds of tales, but it’s a good tale anyway, as you will see. Once upon a time, a long, long, time ago,” Lindir began, “there lived a great king of Númenor. He was the greatest king of Númenor, and he ruled for many years, governing his people wisely and kindly. For many, many years his people were content and happy. Finally, the old king died at a very great age, far greater than the average man. What no one knew at the time was that the king had an enemy.”

Erestor gasped. “Who?” he whispered.

Lindir could not contain a smile, so pleased was he that Erestor was responding to the story and had spoken. Putting on a more severe countenance again, he said, “A very evil wizard was jealous of the king, and he did not want the king to ever be able to return to Arda. You see, the king was part Elf. That is why he lived for so many years. No one knows what happens to a part Elf when they die, if they go to where the Men go to or to the Undying Lands, but the wizard wanted the king’s power and throne, and so he cursed the king as he lay dying.”

“What did he do?” Erestor whispered.

“The evil wizard cursed him with these words: ‘When thy soul takes flight, bound to light wilt thou be. Be thy body restored upon these shores, a bird of flight wilt thou be for all but one turn of the hour glass a night, ‘til reunited with another identical to thee.’” 

“What kind of a bird?” asked Erestor.

“The tale did not say,” Lindir replied, “and we do not know if the king has been reborn. Would you like to draw the king as a bird?”

Erestor nodded, and Lindir placed a piece of paper in front of the elfling, along with pieces of charcoal. 

Erestor touched the paper carefully, fingering its richness. Without waiting for instruction, he picked up a piece of charcoal and bent his head over the paper, wholly concentrating on his drawing, his long dark hair nearly obscuring it from Lindir’s view.

When he had finished, Lindir beheld a magnificent magpie in full flight, wings extended, each black and white feather perfectly drawn so that it felt as if one could reach out and touch the softness. “Oh, Erestor,” Lindir said. “Well done, young one, well done. You have a gift indeed. Glorfindel and Gildor will be so proud of you! Come, let us go to the kitchen, and then we will show Glorfindel this magnificent drawing. Perhaps cook has some cake, or maybe biscuits and jam.”

Erestor happily took Lindir’s hand and walked with him to the kitchen.


	3. Erestor

Erestor sat at a little table in the kitchen, eating his strawberry preserves-smothered bannock and drinking a glass of milk that the nice cook had given him. He really liked the food the cook made, and he was happy. Ever since Glorfindel and Elrond had taken him from that village he had had enough to eat. He was no longer hungry all the time, but the food the cook made here was the best. It reminded him of before, and that made him sad, but then he remembered how happy he was to be here, and that made him smile again. 

Lindir had gone to fetch Glorfindel. The cook and the kitchen maids were bustling around, in and out of adjoining rooms, and even going outside where the big stone ovens were. He was pretty sure that no one but him noticed the big black and white bird, so cleverly was it hiding in a corner of the high rafters. He’d seen it when Glorfindel showed him the kitchen earlier in the morning, too. “Good morning,” he whispered. “Would you like some of my bannock?” He broke off a piece and held it up to the bird. 

“Who are you talking to?” the cook asked. “Do you have a friend here who you’re sharing your bannock with?”

“Just a bird,” Erestor replied, turning to the smiling cook. He pointed back to the rafter, but when he looked back the bird was gone.

“Such a lively imagination you have!” the cook exclaimed. 

Erestor just smiled at her and ate his bannock and drank his milk. 

Lindir returned with Glorfindel, who was holding Erestor's drawing. 

“Erestor, what a magnificent drawing! Look, Gwaeren,” Glorfindel said, holding the picture up for the cook to see. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

The cook leaned in to look more closely at the picture. “Oh, now I see! The bird! Yes, that is lovely indeed. You are very talented, Erestor. You must ask Lindir to let you draw another one, and I will hang it here in the kitchen for everyone to see. I feel like I could just reach out and touch those soft feathers. Will you draw me a picture?”

Erestor nodded, happy that everyone liked his picture. He liked to draw, but it had been a long time since he’d been able to. That was before….no, he wouldn’t think of that. These nice elves had found him and brought him to this place, so he wouldn’t think of the bad times. He loved Glorfindel and Elrond, and now Gildor and Lindir too, and he wouldn’t think of before. Now he had good food, and he was warm, and Lindir gave him lovely paper to draw on. He thought maybe they really meant it when they told him that this was his home now and they would take care of him. He hoped so, because it would really hurt if he had to leave Glorfindel and Elrond. Knowing he had to give the nice cook a real answer, he whispered, “I will draw you a picture of the bird if Lindir will give me more paper.”

Glorfindel was smiling when he said, “We will give you as much paper as you would like, Erestor, so you can draw many pictures. We will hang this one in our sitting room tonight, where Gildor and I can both enjoy it. Would that be all right?”

Erestor smiled and nodded at Glorfindel.

“Then come, if you have finished eating.” Glorfindel reached out a hand to take Erestor’s little one. “Elrond says we must go to his office because he has something for you. I wonder what it could be?”

Erestor was happy to go see Elrond, whom he hadn’t seen since the night before. He missed Elrond after spending all those days with him on the way here. When they reached the office, he pulled his hand out of Glorfindel’s and ran to the tall Elf, wrapping his arms around Elrond’s legs.

Elrond laughed, picking Erestor up in his arms and setting him on the desk. The Elfling’s little legs dangled over the edge. “I have missed you too, Erestor. Did you enjoy your time with Lindir? I saw that beautiful drawing you did. You must make one for me too.”

“I will draw you a bird too,” Erestor said in a voice that was actually a bit louder than a whisper.

“Wonderful!” Elrond said. “I asked Glorfindel to bring you here because I have something special to give you. Would you like to see it?”

Erestor nodded quickly. “Please,” he whispered.

Elrond set a basket with a cover next to Erestor on the desk. Erestor looked at it questioningly, and then looked up at Elrond. “What is it?”

Elrond lifted the basket cover and drew out a small bundle of black fur. “This is Tinnu,” Elrond replied, “and he is yours.” He placed the kitten into Erestor’s arms.

Erestor’s eyes filled with wonder as he hugged the kitten to him carefully so as not to hurt him. Tinnu was all black and smooth and beautiful, and had big shining eyes. Erestor loved him already. He looked up at Elrond, and then at Glorfindel. “Really, I can keep him? He’s mine?” 

“He is yours,” Glorfindel said. “Take care of him and love him, and he will be your best friend.”

“Can he sleep with me?” Erestor breathed. He just had to know the answers to these questions, and he couldn’t hold his tongue, even though he was afraid of talking too much. 

“He can sleep with you,” Glorfindel agreed. “Why don’t we take him to our rooms and you can show him where you sleep. I bet he’d love to play in the garden with you.”

Elrond gave Erestor Tinnu’s basket, and that is exactly what they did. Glorfindel sat at his desk in the sitting room and worked, keeping an eye on Erestor as he and the cat played in the garden outside their rooms. Tinnu chased leaves and butterflies, and Erestor enticed him with a ribbon that Glorfindel had given them to play with. 

The big black and white bird swooped down from a large tree and glided into the garden to land in the grass next to Erestor and the kitten. Erestor pulled Tinnu into his arms. “Don’t hurt him,” he whispered to the bird. “You’re bigger than he is.”

The bird rapidly shook its head, and then cocked it to look at Erestor and the kitten almost upside down, before jumping onto Erestor’s leg. There, he calmly sat, as if waiting for the Elfling. Tinnu hissed with all the ferocity of a small kitten. The bird just sat.

“I don’t think you want to hurt Tinnu.” Erestor said to the bird, stroking the kitten to calm it. “I think he wants to be our friend, Tinnu.” Surprisingly, as he talked, the kitten settled down next to the bird. They sat that way for several minutes, the bird even letting Erestor stroke its head, before it soared up into the trees that sheltered the little Elfling.

“The animals and birds like you, Erestor,” Glorfindel called out to him from the doorway. “I have never seen such a large magpie get so close to someone before, let alone a little kitten. Is Tinnu still scared?”

Erestor shook his head. “The bird wants to be our friend. Tinnu’s too,” he answered, as if the answer should be obvious. Glorfindel smiled at Erestor and went back to his desk.

When the kitten had fallen asleep in his basket, worn out from their play, Erestor brought the basket back into his bedroom and put it at the foot of his bed. He was tired too, and he nearly fell asleep over his lunch before Glorfindel tucked him into his bed for a nap. 

Dinner that night was at a big, long table in a very big hall, bigger than Erestor had ever seen. He and Glorfindel and Gildor sat at the table with Elrond, and that made Erestor feel happy, even though there were lots and lots of new people that he met. He couldn’t remember their names, but everyone was really nice, and Erestor remembered Glorfindel telling him that anyone who lived in the house would help him. There were so many people here! More than in the village Erestor had lived in before. The nice cook made him a special cake to welcome him, and Erestor ate it all, even though he’d eaten a lot of dinner and was already full. 

~_____~

“You should have seen him when Elrond gave him the kitten!” Glorfindel said. He and Gildor were in their sitting room talking quietly after Erestor had gone to sleep in his bed, Tinnu curled up beside him. “He was so excited that he almost spoke to Elrond in a normal voice. It was perfect. I think he must have a real affinity with animals. Not just Tinnu, but a huge magpie came and sat on his lap with Tinnu this afternoon in the garden!”

“It didn’t hurt the kitten? Really?” Gildor was impressed.

“Erestor talked to it, and the bird just sat there and let him touch its head. It looked just like the picture. I wonder if he drew that picture after he saw the bird. He must have seen it somewhere.”

“So the little one has two talents that we know of,” Gildor mused. “Amazing talents. I wonder how many more things we will discover about him.”


	4. The Magpie

The magpie glided silently down from the trees over the balcony outside the rooms and into the Elfling’s room, landing gracefully at the foot of Erestor’s bed. The child fascinated him. He’d listened carefully at windows and from up in the kitchen rafters, and knew all about how Erestor had come to this place. 

The magpie hopped closer to Erestor, avoiding the sleeping kitten, and flapped his wings so that they brushed the Elfling’s face. The light from the moon shining in from the window would give just enough light for Erestor to see him. After a few more flaps of his wings, Erestor stirred and his eyes opened. A brief moment of fright gave way to recognition, and Erestor smiled at him. 

“Hello. You came to visit me again!” Erestor sat up, wide awake, and reached out a hand to the bird. 

The magpie hopped onto Erestor’s lap and made himself comfortable, allowing Erestor to stroke him.

“I like you. You’re nice. And you didn’t hurt Tinnu.”

The magpie shook his head. 

Erestor continued to stroke the bird for long minutes. “I miss my Ada and my Nana,” he finally said. “I haven’t seen them for a long, long time. When I was little – well, littler than I am now – something bad happened and I got left all alone. There were bad people that came.” Erestor remained quiet for a long time before he said, “I don’t think I’m going to see my Ada and my Nana any more. I think they went to the Undying Lands that Lindir told me about. Do you think I’ll see them there one day?”

The magpie nodded his head.

“I think so too. But I miss them. After the bad thing happened, I was all by myself for so long. Some people helped me, and some of them just yelled at me and, I think, told me to go away. I couldn’t understand their language, but I could tell when they yelled and waved their hands for me to leave. They couldn’t understand me when I talked. I think they might have been Men. Maybe Dwarves. I’ve never seen a Dwarf, have you? Then I found that place where Glorfindel and Elrond found me. The people who let me live with them were nice, but they couldn’t understand me either. I knew they didn’t want to hear me talk all the time when they couldn’t understand me, so I stopped talking. I like to talk. I think maybe it would be all right if I talked to Glorfindel and Elrond and Gildor and Lindir more, but I’m a little afraid to. They understand me though, so it might be all right.”

Erestor was silent again for a long while, continuing to stroke the bird. The bird just sat and waited.

“I was sad when they got sick. I didn’t get sick though. I tried to help them, I really did. I brought them water and bread, but they couldn’t eat the bread. And they…they…died. And I was all alone again. The other people yelled at me and waved at me to leave, but I didn’t know where to go so I just stayed by their grave. I didn’t know what to do, but then Glorfindel and Elrond came.” Erestor sighed deeply. “I’m really happy they took me away from there and brought me here. Do you think they’ll let me stay?”

The magpie nodded his head, and Erestor continued to stroke his feathers. 

They sat in silence for a long time, and then the magpie knew it was time for him to leave. He stood, spread his wings, and with a final slow flap of wings in farewell, he rose into the air and flew out to the balcony.

“Don’t leave!” Erestor called, remembering just in time not to yell out loud and wake Glorfindel and Gildor. Jumping from his bed, he ran out of his room to the balcony, and was just able to see the bird heading down towards the kitchen. 

As silent as only a small Elfling can run, he followed the bird, circling the house on the balcony that ran down its length, finally coming to the corridor that led to the kitchen. He nearly ran into the web of thread before he saw it. Stopping where he was, just outside the web, he sat down on the floor, crossing his legs beneath him, and watched the magpie carefully move some of the threads aside and slip inside the web. The bird stood in the middle of the floor and in the blink of an eye, the magpie was gone!

Erestor gasped when the bird changed into a young Elf. He had dark hair like Elrond and Lindir, but Erestor could tell he was younger. He was a grown Elf, just younger. 

The Elf smiled at Erestor. “Hello, Erestor.” 

“You’re the bird!” Erestor whispered. “Just like in the story!”

“What story?”

“Lindir told me a story. What is your name?”

“You may call me Silamorn. I want to talk to you Erestor, and you can tell me the story, but first, I need to get some food, for I am only in this form for an hour each night, and I need to eat. Stay right there while I find some food, then I will sit and talk with you as I eat.”

Erestor nodded and waited while Silamorn went into one of the larders, coming back out with a big piece of chicken. He went into a second larder and came out with a big piece of buttered bread and two peaches. He slipped one of the peaches through a small hole in the web for Erestor to eat. The Elfling smiled and took the peach, whispering a ‘thank you’.

Silamorn sat in front of Erestor, separated only by the intricate web, and began to eat. In between bites, he said, “You are safe here, Erestor. I believe these Elves will take good care of you. In the short time you have been here, I can see that Glorfindel loves you and looks upon you as his son. Elrond also has a great love for you. Do not worry that you will have to leave. That will not happen. I have heard lots of Elves talking about them for the past month, and everyone here loves them and says they are good and kind. Do you not think so?” The chicken quickly disappeared.

Erestor thought for a moment and said, “I think so. Elrond gave me Tinnu, and Glorfindel and Gildor gave me a bed and a nice room and some new clothes. Glorfindel kisses my head here,” he pointed to his forehead, “when he puts me to bed like my Nana and Ada did. Gildor does too. Is that why you say they love me?”

“That and what I know is in their hearts. I have heard them talk.”

“Why are you a bird?”

“I am not sure. I know I was in the Undying Lands and I was reborn and sent back to Arda. It has been difficult for me to remember why I was sent, or who I was before, but the moment I landed on the shores of Arda I was transformed into a bird. I do not know why, but I knew I had to come here. So I am here. For one hour each night I am as I was, and luckily I have been able to find food to eat and no one here has hunted me.”

“Why don’t you wake someone up when you’re an Elf and tell them?”

“Like you, I am afraid, Erestor. I’m not sure what the Elves here will say.” Silamorn stopped talking long enough to finish the bread and begin on his peach. “The cook here is really good.”

Erestor grinned. “I think so, too. She’s nice. Will you come and visit with me when you are a bird again, and can we talk again tomorrow night?”

“I would like that, Erestor. I have been very lonely with no one to talk to. I still want to hear the story that Lindir told you, but my time tonight is almost at an end. I will fly up to my hiding place in the rafters and go to sleep. You go back to bed and I will see you tomorrow. Do not get caught!” And in a moment, Silamorn was once again a magpie. He flew up to his hiding place in the rafters.

Night after night, Silamorn would wake Erestor, and the two met and talked for as much time as they had while Silamorn ate. He learned the story of the cursed king from Erestor, and like Erestor, he puzzled over the riddle and what the words could mean.

Erestor, in turn, continued his lessons with Lindir and was learning how to write. He drew many, many pictures of a beautiful magpie that hung in rooms throughout the house. He drew pictures of Tinnu, and sometimes ones of Tinnu and the magpie together. Gildor took him on walks into the woods and showed him all of the plants and flowers, some that he could eat, some that he had to stay away from, and others that the healers used. Glorfindel read him stories from books in the library every day and began teaching him to read. Erestor played in the garden with the kitten and the magpie each day, and Tinnu and Silamorn often played together, the bird and kitten chasing each other and tumbling together. Slowly, trust and love grew between Erestor and the grown Elves. More than three months passed before Erestor even knew it, and autumn moved into the early days of winter.

~_______~  
Elrond and Gildor had stopped putting the web around the kitchen larders after the first few days, when it became clear that the tactic had no impact at all on stopping the food from going missing.

“All we have left is to place a guard in the kitchen overnight,” Gildor said. They were once again all sitting at Elrond’s table in the dining hall, talking amongst themselves over dinner.

“I hate to do that,” Elrond replied. “It gives the impression that we have to guard our food, or we’re taking food from the mouths of those who need it.” He shook his head. “I do not like that idea.”

Unnoticed by any of the grown Elves, Erestor’s eyes went wide. He tugged on Glorfindel’s sleeve. “Please Glorfindel,” he whispered. “Don’t let Gildor put a guard in the kitchen. Silamorn won’t be able to eat and he’ll be hungry.” Tears shone in the child’s eyes.

Glorfindel made a motion to Elrond and Gildor to stop their talking. Speaking very quietly, so no one else at the table would hear him, he asked, “You know who is eating the food from the kitchens? Who is Silamorn, Erestor?”

Erestor sniffed and wiped his eyes. “I know I shouldn’t tell you because he’s afraid, but you can’t keep him from getting the food.”

“Who is Silamorn?” Glorfindel asked again, "and why does he have to go to the kitchen at night?”

“Because he’s only an Elf for an hour every night. He’s the bird,” Erestor whispered. “Please don’t hurt him. He’s afraid.”

Elrond’s eyebrow rose. “We will not hurt him. Say no more until we have finished eating, then the four of us will talk in my office and you can tell us about Silamorn. I promise, if he needs help, we will help him.”

They ate quickly, and after taking their leave from the others at the table, they hurried to Elrond’s office.

Elrond sat behind his desk and lifted Erestor onto his lap. “Now Erestor, tell us about Silamorn.”

And so Erestor did. He told them about how Silamorn had been in the Undying Lands, and how the moment he stepped foot onto Arda he was changed into a bird, just like the king in Lindir’s story who was cursed. He told them how lonely Silamorn had been, and how he could not remember who he really was or why he had to come to Imladris. He shared how they met in the kitchen each night and talked as Silamorn ate. He told them how Silamorn was afraid to wake anyone up and tell them because he didn’t know what would happen if he did. He spoke as the Elves had never heard him before.

“Please don’t hurt him,” Erestor whispered. “He’s my friend and I love him, and Tinnu does too. He plays with us and lets me talk to him about before, and he doesn’t care if I talk and talk. He would be so lonely if he couldn’t come and talk to me, and he’ll starve if we don’t feed him. Please, can you help him?”

“We will help him if we can,” Elrond said, “and we will let him eat all he needs. How do you know when it’s time to go and meet him? You should be sound asleep in your bed!”

“He comes to my room and wakes me, and then I follow him down the balcony to the kitchens.”

“I see,” said Glorfindel. “Erestor, are you sure you don’t dream about this?”

Erestor was very serious when he replied to the question. “Silamorn is real, Glorfindel. Gwaeren says I have an imagination, but Silamorn is real.” 

“What does Silamorn look like when he is a bird, Erestor?” Gildor asked.

Erestor just pointed to the drawing on the wall of a large magpie with a black cat he had made for Elrond.


	5. Silamorn & Epilogue

Silamorn woke the Elfling in his usual manner and hurriedly flew away, out the window and down the balcony to the kitchen.  He knew Erestor would follow.   He was late tonight, due to dodging a particularly aggressive and large owl on the hunt, and the change was almost upon him.  Thank goodness the Elves had stopped weaving the threads across the larders almost as soon as they had started it, but he liked to be in the kitchen and make sure no one was about before he turned into an Elf.  He supposed if there were ever someone in the kitchen, he would hide in the rafters as an Elf for the hour and go hungry that night.  Killing small prey or eating carrion while a bird was not the most desirable way to find his food, but he’d do it if he had to.

 His luck held, for the kitchen was empty.  He settled onto the floor, changing into his Elven form just as Erestor ran into the room.  When he rose and turned to greet his friend, he saw that Erestor was not alone.  He quickly sat down on the floor, trying to cover his nakedness, unable to stop his body from shivering in fright.  His secret was out.  He couldn’t blame Erestor.  Silamorn knew Erestor would never have told anyone unless it was absolutely necessary.  Erestor looked afraid, too.  The three most powerful Elves in Imladris were staring at him in shock.  He recognized Elrond, Glorfindel and Gildor, having observed them for weeks.  Finally breaking the stunned silence, he said in a quivering voice, “What will you do to me?”

 The question seemed to bring Gildor out of his shock first.  Taking his cloak from his shoulders, he stepped forward and draped it around Silamorn.  “Do not be afraid.    “We will not hurt you.”

 Erestor tugged at Glorfindel’s sleeve.  “Silamorn has to eat.  He only has an hour.  Please, will you get his food?”

 Glorfindel shook his head in an attempt to clear it.  “Of course.  Thank you for reminding me, Erestor.”  He went into one of the larders and returned with a tray holding a plate heaped with meat and vegetables, a basket of bread, a crock of butter, and a mug of wine.  “We asked the cook to make you a tray tonight.  Come sit at the table and eat.”  He placed the tray on the small table where Erestor frequently ate his mid-morning meals.

 Erestor took Silamorn by the hand.  “Please, Silamorn, come and eat.  You have to eat.  They will help you.”

 All this time Elrond stood motionless, staring at the Elf in disbelief.  When Silamorn rose and pulled the cloak closer around him, Elrond finally moved.  Placing a hand on Silamorn’s shoulder he stopped the Elf from moving.  “So young,” Elrond said.  “I did not recognize you for a moment.  So different from when last I saw you.  It is you, isn’t it?” 

Silamorn saw there were tears suddenly streaming down Elrond’s face, and in that moment he, too, knew who he was and why he was here.  With a cry of joy, he threw himself into Elrond’s waiting arms and wept.

 Elrond hugged him tightly, their tears mingling, and Silamorn finally heard that long-ago loved voice call him by his true name: “Elros.”

 Erestor looked up at Glorfindel.  “Who is he?” he whispered.

 Glorfindel’s voice was thick with emotion.  “It is Elrond’s twin brother, returned to him from the Blessed Realm.  You have found Elros, Erestor.  You helped break the curse.”  He lifted Erestor into his arms, hugged him, and kissed him on his brow.  “Well done, little one.  Well done.”

 

 

Epilogue

Many years later

 

“Will you go with Glorfindel and the army he leads to aid Eärnur at Fornost?”

 Elros shook his head, then removed the silver circlet from his brow and placed it on the mantel of their sitting room.  He looked up at the large painting of a cat and a magpie that hung above the mantel before taking his usual seat on the sofa.  “It is not my place, Erestor.  I was sent back to Arda by the Valar to support Elrond, and here I will stay, with you and my brother, until the day he leaves.”

 Erestor sighed in relief.  “Is it wrong for me to be glad?”

 Elros chuckled at his husband.  “I hope not, for I have no desire to leave you.”

 “Glorfindel and Gildor will return to us safe?”

 Elros nodded.  “Elrond and I have both foreseen it.” 

 “Then I am content.”  Erestor sat next to his mate on the sofa and wrapped his arms around him.  “My magpie.  Do you ever think about those days?”

 “Often, like you.  Especially that night when Elrond recognized me and the curse was broken.  Such a night that was, Erestor.”

 “I was so afraid for you.  I never would have guessed that Lindir’s story was true and you were the cursed king.”

 “King no more, beloved.  Those days are far in the past, thousands of years past, and can never be brought back.  I am happier now than I could ever have imagined.  I am content to be here, married to my brother’s chief counselor, and supporting both you and him in any way I can.”

 A large black cat joined them on the sofa, curling up into Elros’ lap.  “Hello, Tinnu,” Elros said, stroking the sleek fur.  “Did I ever tell you that you look just like the very first Tinnu?”  The cat purred.

 “You have told him often.”  Erestor smiled at the pair.  Elros loved this Tinnu as much as Silamorn the magpie had loved his predecessor.  “Whatever comes to pass, Elros, we will face it together.  I hope, one day, that our time on these shores will come to an end because evil has finally been defeated. Then you and I, with Elrond and his family, Glorfindel and Gildor, Lindir and all the rest of our friends here will finally set sail to the Blessed Realm and live in peace.”

 “That day will come, Erestor.  It is a good while away yet, but both Elrond and I….”

 “…have foreseen it,” Erestor finished for his husband with a smile.  And then he leaned over and kissed the Elf he would love until the end of time.

 the end

 

 

Author’s note:

The meaning of Silamorn is shining white and black, an apt name for the beautiful and intelligent magpie.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second picture with Tinnu and Silamorn keeps disappearing, so here is the direct link if you'd like to see it.  
> http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v689/aglarien1/Pictures%20for%20Stories/Magpie%20and%20cat.jpg~original


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